Break and bind yourself to me

China Rose Lykoi · 03-04-2012, 10:45 AM

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Wordcount: + 3

Rounded pupils drank him in, thirsty for the sight of him. She had grown so terribly dependent on the man - For company, for physical and mental sustenance. It was surely unhealthy the way she craved him, the way that her entire being had molded itself about his existence. But in this world there was no plastic therapist to tear apart her fragile happiness, no false taboo in which to fester guilt. Wrong though their relationship may have been, being with Itachi was the only thing that could and would ever make China feel right, in the way she so desperately deserved.

She caught the unspoken happiness in his expression, the emotion that lingered beneath a mild exterior. The golden man had never been one for excessive displays of love or hatred, but she had stopped expecting that from him a long time ago. The girl (more, a woman, trapped in a body of seemingly eternal youth) had come to adore his subtleness, for then it seemed like each emotion was felt more genuinely, more truly, than when shown by others.

Had she been a scholarly creature, she might have noticed progress, as he had. She might have realized that he smiled more now than he ever had before - Might have realized that her presence was slowly changing him, too, just as his was her. While he was cooling and stabilizing the reckless burning of her fickle flame-like nature, she was bringing him flourishes of life, of wildness and lust and color and love.

He came straight to her, and she held still, allowing his seeking fingers to brush against the new sharpness to her silky grey hair. Rounded eyes watched him, eagerly seeking approval within shades of soft sunset and bleeding ruby. Once, even this small touch would have made her tremble with fear and illness - Now, she accepted it, enjoyed it even. Her wings were mending, albeit slowly. "Itachi," The girl's voice was the faintest whisper, a chiming note of beautiful music heard from far away. It was not the first word she had spoken to him, since living here - But her voice was returning brutally slowly. Her song was rusty, uncertain, and where once her greeting might have spanned many notes and melodies, it was for now restrained to the singular chirp of his name.

She pulled back from his touch, deeming the contact to have gone on for long enough, and moved out of the doorway and back into the depths of the small den to allow him room to enter. Her hands, softly blushing, folded within one another and fidgeted - Like a small child, she was eager to hear of his exploits, eager to see what he had retrieved from the world beyond. But Itachi would never be hurried, and he had taught her some manner of patience. Thus, she remained silent, dark lashes fluttering sweetly about excited eyes of eggshell blue.

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